I’ve Lost My Way to the Land of Play

Goddess bless America!  I have been walking the acute trapeze of a fine line between marinating and drowning in a shallow puddle of anxiety as I contemplate what to write about this day.  My life has been zooming by in a raucous smear of vibrant colors and wilderness and no particular facet of this ostentatious display is pressing any harder than another at the invisible escape hatch that bridges my own depths with the world of elaborate, divisive hallucinations otherwise known as Life.  Oh well.  It feels so good to write anyway.

Please don’t misunderstand… It’s not that I don’t have anything to say… It’s just that what I have to say is all over the map and the alleged map is but a glorified though moody myth in the first place.  I guess what I’ll say is that my bones feel weary~ my literal bones, my figurative bones and the bones who rustle like robust bamboo stalks when the winds of change charge and tussle me (and you) into ever-new inspired shapes of dancing light.

Mykael just got home and asked me how I’m doing.  And praise Elvis Presley, his asking is what finally spilled the stubborn milk welling up in my heart.  My insides engorged with a sorrow relieved to finally be revealed, teased from its casual refuge in the shadow burned reaches of me.  I quivered like nervous pudding, tears parading down my cheeks as I told him that I just wanted to be held.  I realize that I have been in warrioress mode for a while now.  I have been working overtime, asserting my independence, carving myself a deep, intimate niche as a writer, poet, divine servant.  I have been blowing fuses on an hourly basis as I stand vigilant guard over my flailing mind, ever re-directing it to higher planes and deeper, lusher valleys of divine surrender.

Word on the metaphysical, astrological, esoteric street is that at this auspicious juncture in the ever-poetic tumbling forth of consciousness, old structures, ruts, disempowering, binding habits are crumbling and giving way to more enlightened, spiritually attuned ways of being.  Yup.  I see this trend flushing through me and as well through you and you and you.  It’s just what’s for dinner right now.  Mostly I’ve been all excitement, relief and rhapsody over this triumphant metamorphosis…

But you know who is suddenly crying out from inside me this fine, crisp, new born august evening?  My inner cha-cha-child!  Yeah, she basically just crawled out of her tiny little shadowy crevice and looked up at me with wet, pleading eyes.  And I looked back at her, stunned, like, “What do YOU want, little ragamuffin?  Sheesh, can’t you see I’m busy being an important, holier than thou grown-up whose Destiny is eruditely beckoning her?  No, I can’t hold you right now… I’m actually pretty tied up trying to hold the world together right now, sorry!  Play???  What is this frivolous P word you speak of?”

I feel like I have been holding so many as of late… But who is holding ME?  Who am I allowing to hold me?  How can I hold this ever-tender little babe of my own precious self?  I seriously need to PLAY!  I need an intravenous dose of emergency laughter, stat!  But WHAT DO I DO?  I don’t feel like I have any playmates right now!  Who will play with me?  Somebody please accompany me on the scenic route to the ecstatic brink of insanity where dreams flow free like snow-melt streams in droves of potent, whimsical images born of whispers uttered from erotically charged, glistening angel’s lips.

Or maybe we could just play a simple, heated game of ping-pong… Sheesh.  Or let’s throw convention to the underfed hyenas and finger paint the walls of a dirty church as dawn takes her first flirtatious breath.  Let’s wrestle until we’re spent and then you can finish me off by tickling me over the precipice of death.  Maybe I’ll spin this despicable predicament of clenched, over-worked transformationally-weighty ambitious significance squared into a melodramatic opera that will bring you to your knees in a flashflood of tears and rapture!

In essence, Beloved All Pervading Fairy Godmother PLEASE twist my spigot till I’m a-gush with holy laugher!

Amen.

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2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Rosy Moon
    Aug 03, 2010 @ 05:14:52

    In essence, Beloved All Pervading Fairy Godmother PLEASE twist my spigot till I’m a-gush with holy laugher!
    !!!! HA!!!!!
    You rrrrock ❤

    Reply

  2. Pheeee
    Aug 03, 2010 @ 18:02:17

    tickle tickle tickle write write write
    laughter & love!
    Perhaps Phish?

    Reply

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